KGWrites

James

Whiteoak Estate, Summer District, Kingdom of Aldiron

Spring gave way to the heat and sunlight of summer, and then onwards into autumn. For the Cobalts, the months were gruelling training in both arms and etiquette. For James in particular, they were even more intense, added on to with long nights of research into the various myths and legends of Aldiron’s history, and even some histories beyond.

But still, despite the exhaustion and the bruises and the constant headaches, James’ family was fed, and warm, and safe.

He wouldn’t change it for the world.

Over the past few months, James and Alyx’s injuries had healed well and they’d soon found themselves back to their normal ability. Then work had really begun. Alyx’s martial training had ramped up rapidly, with her skill with a sword being a major focus, she was good now, able to hold her own against Marius or Haster, though surpassing them was still beyond her. She’d also proven herself strangely adept with throwing weapons, small hatchets and knives in particular.

James’ own skill with a blade still couldn’t hold a candle to any of the others. He wasn’t bad, but keeping a grip on a weapon with only three fingers was difficult, and it left him with less control. He’d even tried training with his other hand, but he was even worse. However, James had found that his injuries didn’t hinder him using a bow and arrow in any way, so his training had been mostly focussed on archery. And in that regard, he was good.

It wasn’t swords or bows that James was working with at the moment, however. Instead, he was sitting by a pile of books all marked with various tabs, firelight sending flickering shadows around the room. The smell of lilies was clear through the room, mixing with the woodsmoke of the fire to bring a warm, honeyed feel to the air.

He sipped at the tankard of freshly squeezed orange juice by his side and lifted another parchment into view. Scanning it, he found himself reading another long dry theory from some long dead scholar of Aldiron. The theory proposed the idea of the “Brightblade”, the sword that could allegedly slay an immortal Demon, actually being a blade made from the horn of a unicorn, that one would need to be left beneath a pool blessed by high priests of the entire Village for a full cycle of the moon before being thrust into the heart of the demon in question.

James clicked his tongue and shook his head, laying the paper down.

“Well, they certainly had active imaginations, these old scholars.” He said with a mirthless laugh, making the other person in the room look up.

“I still don’t really understand what all this is for. Isn’t this Lord Draconeus person just a man?” Lillian asked from her position by the fire, laid down amongst books in which she was writing out lines for her tutor back in the palace.

“I think he is.” James replied, turning in his chair to face her. “But the king and the others are worried the stories might be true about him, and if they are, then he can’t be stopped with what we have here.”

“I don’t think I know those stories.” Lillian said after a moment of thinking, then she looked up at James, her eyes wide and pleading for anything to release her from the monotony of her writing lessons. “Tell me?”

James sighed with a tired smile, blinking slowly and feeling his eyes water slightly with the movement. Maybe I should take a break from the books for a while.

“Alright, but if I hear that you never finished your lessons.” He began but Lillian enthusiastically nodded and pushed the books away.

“I’ll finish them later, I promise.” She said hurriedly, swinging herself around to sit cross legged on the floor in front of James, smiling up at him.

 “You’d better.” James said, before settling back on his chair and taking another sip of his drink. Then, he began to tell the story.

“Long ago, hundreds of years before now, Aldiron wasn’t ruled by the Ravellan family. In fact, our people, humans, they mostly lived in the north-eastern lands. In the lands now ruled by the Kingdom of Gruraith. And there weren’t big cities like this for us, we lived in little villages, with farms and animals. We stayed small and quiet, because the world was ruled by creatures far more dangerous than us.”

Lillian sat forwards at his words, her eyes shining with wonder at the world he painted before her.

“Dragons flew the skies, Dwarves mined deep in the mountains for gold and jewels, and Troll tribes wandered the rivers and swamplands. But they were nothing compared to the Evellien, Elves. All the lands south of the Ramm River belonged to the Evellien, and they built great cities and towns here. They ruled here with kingdoms and armies, even greater than we have now.”

“But the worst were the Demons, evil creatures that worked horrible magic across the land. The lesser demons, the more common ones, had magic that made them dangerous to fight, but they were mostly just like you or me. But the greater demons that ruled them had terrifying powers. Some could shift their shape and face to look like others, some could use magic to control your mind. Others could blow apart buildings with magic. Highest and most powerful of these creatures were called Blood Demons.”

James took a deep breath, considering how to continue. From the legends and accounts he’d read over the last few months, the power wielded by Blood Demons was not something for the faint of heart to discuss. He’d need to word it carefully for Lillian.

“Blood Demons could use their magic on their blood. They could use it to heal from any wound, or to spread curses to other people. They ruled the Demons, and their powers meant that they essentially could not die.”

James lifted his head as the door to the room slid open quietly and the figure of Meghan Whiteoak slipped in. Clearly she had just finished her secretive lessons with Iona for the day. Seeing James telling the story to Lillian, she gave them both a smile and nod of greeting and stood back, leaning against a tall bookshelf and folding her arms, listening to the story along with Lillian.

“People say that Lord Draconeus is one of those Blood Demons, maybe even the last one.”

“But why is he the last one? If they couldn’t die? And what happened to the Evellien? And the Dwarves? And the Dragons?” Lillian asked, the questions rushing out in waves almost as soon as she thought of them.

“Stories change on who attacked first, but the Demons and Evellien started fighting wars with each other. Wars that were so terrible they tore the Dragons from the sky and killed the fantastic creatures we all hear about, no more unicorns or trolls. Wars that so many died in that the land they fought on was turned red and even today is called the Bloodfields.”

“The Evellien could fight the Demons forever and could beat them in every battle, but the Demons would always come back, because their leaders, the Blood Demons, wouldn’t die. Eventually, the Evellien would lose. So, they reached out for help from the Dwarves. And the Dwarves gave the Evellien king a sword.”

Lillian narrowed her eyes.

“Just one sword? How would that help?” She asked, and James smiled.

“Not just any sword. The Brightblade. A sword that had the power to stop a Blood Demon’s magic, though no-one seems to know how. But it could kill them and kill them it did. With the Brightblade in hand, the Evellien attacked the Demons and the Evellien king used the Brightblade to strike down the Blood Demons wherever he found them. The Evellien had victory, and the Demons fell back into their mountain homes where they tried to regain their strength, but they never could. They were defeated, and soon they died out.”

“They had one last revenge though. The last act of the Blood Demons before they were destroyed was to curse the Dwarves, driving them mad with greed that drove them deep underground and caused them to collapse their own tunnels behind them. They disappeared from the world and died out in the dark underground.”

“After the Demons were destroyed and the Dwarves disappeared, the Evellien began to falter too. Like us, they split into smaller kingdoms and slowly the wars between them drove them to extinction too.” James finished, and Lillian drew back in unsatisfied confusion.

“That’s it? They won but they ended up just dying too?” She asked and James chuckled, remembering his own reaction being similar when he had first heard the story.

“It took a long time for it to happen. And humans also fought the Evellien a few times as we started to make kingdoms of our own. There’s plenty of stories about what happened to the Evellien. Some say disease destroyed them, or that wars with the humans and each other did. Some stories, the same ones that say Draconeus is one of the Blood Demons, say that he cursed them like with the Dwarves and let them slowly die out while he hid in his fortress in the mountains.”

“But what about the Brightblade? What happened to it?” Lillian asked and James sighed, exchanging a glance with Meghan at the side of the room. Then he lifted his hand to pat at the stack of books on the table.

“That’s what these are for, hopefully we can find out.” He said and Lillian nodded slowly. But then she opened her mouth for another question.

“But what about…” She began but James held up his hand.

“Ah ah. That’s enough stories for you tonight, Lil. Go meet Alyx and head back up to the palace. I’ll catch up with you both later.” He told her and Lillian pouted, scowling at him. Even still she picked up her books and headed to the door, stopping to give James a quick hug on her way out.

“And get that writing done by the time I get back. Your tutors still don’t like me after the last time I helped you skip work.” He called after her and she turned and stuck her tongue out at him. He returned the gesture, and she laughed and hurried out, giving Meghan a smile on her way past.

“You tell that story well you know.” Meghan told him once the door closed behind Lillian. She took a few strides forwards, settling into the cushioned armchair opposite James at the table. She reached forwards to grab the jug of juice sitting in the table’s centre, pouring her own cup and taking a sip, kicking off her boots as she did so.

It was a casual and relaxed practice that both of them had fallen into the past few months. Spend a long day training in dust and discomfort and relax during their periods of research in the library of her estate. James would arrive first, while Alyx continued training with Marius and Haster and Meghan took Iona for the mysterious private lessons they shared. After which she would join him.

With training over, both had shed their heavier garments in favour of comfort. James wore a blue hooded tunic with a black sleeveless vest resting over the top while Meghan had opted for a black tunic edged in her usual violet hues. It sat fitted to her waist with an ornate pale brown leather belt and hung loose around her collar and neck, with the collar dipping down slightly. Which allowed James to catch a glimpse of the intricate white tattoo that twisted up from Meghan’s sternum and spread along the length of her collarbone, standing out clearly against her dark brown skin. It looked like the branches of a tree, with the white giving it the impression of a morning winter frost.

“I heard it plenty of times when I was younger. I used to bug my mother constantly with questions just like Lillian did.” James explained. Meghan nodded and didn’t pry any further, she’d picked up quickly that she shouldn’t ask about James’ parents, and she’d always stuck to that. Instead, she gestured towards the map of the region, spread out across the table.

“And what do you make of it? Just a story? Or something that actually happened?” She asked.

James sat back, considering her question. She’d asked him about his belief in the rumours and legends of Draconeus and the Brightblade before, but his belief in the ancient age? That she’d never brought up.

“I believe every story has some truth to it. And we’ve studied enough the last few months to see some of that proof ourselves. Aldiron was once an Evellien city, their empire definitely existed. Plenty of people have dug up bones of dragons and trolls to prove they existed. So there’s parts of this story I believe.” He said after a while.

“The historical aspect then.” Meghan observed and James nodded.

“I can believe there was a war between Evellien and the Demons, I can believe the Demons, what was left of them, retreated to Shetani and slowly died out. I can believe that before they died, they sent out curses that led to the destruction of the Dwarves, maybe the Evellien too. But what I can’t believe, is that there was a magic sword that killed immortal Demons, or that the last of those Demons is still alive and about to descend on us with an army if you and I can’t find that sword.” James said and Meghan sighed, reaching forwards to take a few salted nuts from a bowl and eating them.

“Then what is Draconeus?” She asked between mouthfuls.

“It’s no secret that Draconeus makes his home in Shetani Fortress, the same fortress that the Demons retreated to. I think he found some of their old magical secrets there. I think he’s a sorcerer, a very powerful one that uses magic that’s not been seen in years. Don’t think I’m dismissing what we’re doing here. Brightblade or not, these accounts hold our best look at the magic Demons wielded, and so give us an idea of what he might be capable of. But I still think he’s a man, one that can be killed the same as any other.” James replied. Meghan hummed, looking into the crackling fire. Slowly she lifted one leg onto the chair she was on and hugged her arms around it.

“So, you don’t have a problem believing sorcerers exist then?” She asked after a while. James narrowed his eyes, looking up from the parchments to watch Meghan carefully. She was staring into the fire with a distant look to her face. She seemed almost… worried.

“There’s enough out there that I can’t explain. Magic just makes sense as one of those things I’ve not seen before. But I believe it’s a real thing.” He replied carefully. There were other things James had heard about sorcerers before, that here in Aldiron they were rare for a reason, and that the priests of the Village seemed to have some issue with them. But he sensed that wasn’t exactly what Meghan had been asking.

“It’s real.” Meghan said softly, almost more to herself than James. “It’s real and it can do terrible things.”

This was more than sharing a story, James realised, something in Meghan’s voice held more than just scholarly insight. It wasn’t fear though. James was something of an expert on fear and trying to hide it. This wasn’t that.

If anything, Meghan sounded more… ashamed.

James sat back, thinking on what to say. He got the sense that Meghan was letting him see behind some barrier or mask that she held up for most of the world. He wanted to make sure she understood she was safe to do so.

“I’ve heard lots of stories about magic, about the things it can do.  I’ve heard about it being used to burn crops and towns, to kill and destroy.” He began slowly, keeping his voice soft. Meghan hugged her leg tighter.

“But there’s plenty of other stories. Of mages that could use magic to shield people from harm or heal injuries. Some stories even tell of mages helping villages find water in times of drought. Every story has some truth to it. So, magic mustn’t be all bad.” He finished, smiling over at Meghan who looked up from the fire to him in shock. Clearly, she’d been expecting him to follow the same doctrine as the priests, to condemn magic in all forms.

James chuckled, still smiling at Meghan as softly as he could, keeping any form of judgement away from his expression or voice.

“Though if I happened to know a sorcerer, and I’ve been taking beatings and bruises every day at training and aching for months when they could heal me up quick as a flash? I’d be very annoyed with that friend.” He continued, putting as much stress as possible on the word “friend”. Meghan laughed and shook her head, turning her gaze back to the fire.

“Healing magic’s a lost art, I wouldn’t even know where to start.” She replied, before she clearly realised exactly what she’d just said and her eyes widened in shock and she whipped her head around to look at James, her mouth dropping open.

James took a deep breath, his thoughts confirmed. He sat back in his chair and sipped his cup, shrugging with an easy smile at Meghan.

“Hey, I just thought I’d check.” He said and Meghan stared even wider.

“James, please. Just forget what I just said. A slip of the tongue, something you’ve imagined, anything. Just… it never happened.” Meghan said, her voice pleading and soft, her eyes wide and looking almost frightened. Her fingers gripped at each other, locked around her leg on the chair.

“If that’s what you want Meghan then absolutely.” James reassured her, sitting forwards and locking eyes with her. “Can’t say I understand though. I mean, if I had magic, I’d be screaming it from the rooftops.”

Meghan winced at his words but smiled her thanks at his reassurance.

“It’s not that easy. Magic… most people don’t see magic as anything other than evil, the opposite of the Gods. If they knew…” She trailed off, but her gaze lingered on the fire for that little while longer. James drew back, taking a long breath.

“I’m sorry. I know a little bit of having to hide to protect myself. But you… you’re in the court, people know you. For Alyx and me it was only a few people to worry about. But you have to hide yourself from…”

“Everyone.” Meghan finished sadly. James took another shaky breath, he’d hoped that there would be other sorcerers hidden throughout the city, people Meghan didn’t need to hide from. Slowly he moved forwards from his chair, reaching out to lay his hand on hers. Her gaze turned from the fire to him, searching and scanning for understanding of why he had suddenly approached.

“Not everyone.” James told her gently, offering her a smile. “Not anymore.”

Meghan looked at him for a long while, not speaking or moving at all. And for a while James wasn’t sure what she’d do. And then, very slowly, she let out a soft sniffle and smiled.

“Thank you James.” She said softly, as if she didn’t trust her voice not to break. James grinned and moved back to his seat.

“Come on Lady Whiteoak, we’ve got a mythical sword to hunt down.” He said and she nodded, pulling herself back around to the table and wiping her eyes on her sleeve.

As they sat in silence, James considered everything he’d just found out. Meghan Whiteoak, mentor to Alyx, himself and the Princess of Aldiron, was a sorceress. But she hid it, wanted no-one else to know.

No-one but me.

As James sat and pondered on why Meghan had chosen to tell him, only one conclusion seemed to satisfy. Meghan trusted him.

And now it was James’ turn for shame to eat at his insides, as he looked from his friend down to the papers in front of him and carefully pulled a book over to hide a meticulously sketched out plan of someone rappelling down the palace cliffs.

Cliffs that at their bottom, hid the treasury of Aldiron.